


If I Love You

by jasmina22



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASoIaF Kink Meme, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmina22/pseuds/jasmina22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: At the Trident, Robert died, but King's Landing was still sacked. King Rhaegar sends his remaining heir, Prince Jon, north with his Uncle. Sixteen years later, Jon is called back to court. Written for Asioaf kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was: Rhaegar wins the war. He kills Robert and takes the Iron Throne. Lyanna still dies giving birth to Jon, and Rhaegar, unable to bear the sight of his son (for his trueborn children are still dead), sends him to Winterfell to be fostered. Ned Stark names him Jon Targaryen (he's not a bastard) and raises him as one of his own. Rhaegar doesn't remarry but devotes his time to raising Viserys and Dany.
> 
> Ned brings all the kids to King's Landing as in canon. Cue forbidden love affair between Jon and Dany (forbidden because Rhaegar thinks the incest thing is wrong).

Sixteen years ago, when rebellion started, Ned Stark left Winterfell newly appointed Lord Stark, leaving his remaining younger brother ruling in his stead and rode to Riverlands. To marry his brother’s betrothed, to seal the alliance and start a war. 

What other option is there when your family is dead and the King is demanding your head? 

Sixteen years ago, Ned hoped for his sister, wished for Robert, dreamt of success and prayed for mercy. 

None is granted.

He was too late to save Robert, met by Prince’s force, weak, but still standing, demanding peace talks. Jon wanted to carry on, they could defeat the Prince, the remaining Storm Lords would side with Ned, they had the strength. 

But if he had failed Robert, Ned would not fail Lyanna.

In the midst of whirlwind that followed, information flew – about the fall of Robert, the death of the Prince, slain armies, but the Trident was blind for that. Only few knew the whole truth and they were buried in deals, promises, papers and marriages. 

It had been too late when they found out.

The Targaryen King murdered his brother and father, yet sixteen years ago Ned rode to his rescue. Rode to meet the Lannister force, advancing quickly toward the King’s Landing. Rode to save his sister, hoped he could. 

For Lyanna, Ned will do anything. Still.

They came too late. Too late for the King, too late for Princess Elia, too late for Princess Rhaenys, too late for Prince Aegon. The Lannisters made a mistake and they burnt for it. Burnt even when Ned was riding on, riding for Storm’s End, Robert’s body with him and he never expected to make that journey. 

Stannis is still in exile. 

Ned returned to King’s Landing to a new King on the Iron Throne. Returned to the King, consumed by grief over his mother, his wife, his children. Returned to find his sister dead, returned to find she gave her life to birth a boy, his coloring Stark so strong the King flinched every time his eyes fell on him.

Still he is the heir.

Sixteen years ago Ned returned from the war to the house haunted by ghosts. His father gone, his brother gone, his sister gone, his friend gone. Still, as he slid from his horse, there was a bundle in his arms, a child he presented to his new wife as Crown Prince Jon Targaryen. 

The reign of Rhaegar Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, has officially started. 

*


	2. Chapter 2

The fresh snow that had fallen the night before covered the land all in white and the air around them was quite fresh, every time he breathed out, Prince Jon Targaryen could see it fog around his head.

The day around them was gloomy, it seemed as it would snow more later on. Around the castle there were whispers that winter was indeed finally coming and the chill Jon felt was completely expected. Still, he pulled the cloak tighter around him, fastening the dragon pin holding it again. 

Turning around, he saw Ser Barristan riding behind him, almost blending with the snow in his white armor. He quickly turned back as he heard Robb commenting on the weather again. They were returning from the execution of the runaway man of the Night’s Watch and his uncle had decided to bring Bran along. 

His younger cousin seemed quiet and lost in thoughts ever since his father passed the sentence and wielded the sword. To Jon, he didn’t appear frighten, but it was somewhat unusual to not hear Bran talking all the time. 

He caught Robb’s eyes over Bran’s head and nodded at his older cousin’s mouthed “Later.”

They were close to the Wolfswood and from there Winterfell was close. They could give Bran some more time. He looked to Bran again and found him staring straight ahead. 

There was a strong blast of wind that forced Jon to turn his head to prevent his hair blowing in his eyes, and he caught something moving from the corner of his eye. He turned to look, his eyes narrowing against the wind, but he couldn’t be sure. 

He stopped his horse and slid down, barely registering “My prince?” Ser Barristan aimed at him. He heard the knight followed him, even though Jon waved him away. 

As he drew closer, he saw it was just a bush and he almost turned around, thinking it was a mistake, when he heard a soft whine, coming from behind the bushes. Before Ser Barristan could hold him back, Jon was already moving forward.

He heard his uncle asking what it was, and the knight’s response, but Jon was entirely fascinated by the sight of five pups in front of him. 

His uncle reached where Jon and Ser Barristan were standing, Robb and Bran close behind. 

“Their mother is dead.” Bran stated in a hushed voice. “Can we take them, Father?”

Jon listened as his cousins talked with his uncle, trying to convince him to allow them to take the pups. 

“There are five of them, Uncle.” Jon said, “For your five children. It’s your sigil, you can’t leave them here.”

When he turned, his uncle was looking at him with an unreadable expression upon his face, “You don’t want one?”

Jon felt his mouth curl in a small smile, “I’m not a Stark, Uncle.” Though he sometimes wished he was. He watched as his uncle nodded, his hand landing on Jon’s shoulder in a silent support. 

He watched as Lord Stark relented under Bran’s begging and ordered Ser Rodrick to carefully gather the pups. Jon stood aside waiting for them to leave, before finally moving, casting one last look around. He stopped mid-turn, when he caught something red just a spot away from the dead wolf.

Jon drew near, as quiet as he could, waving at the knight behind him to not follow him, and a surprised sound escaped him, when he saw another pup, this one pale as a snow. He slowly lifted him up, wrapping around him his cloak, before looking at Ser Barristan. 

“Are we ready?” Jon’s uncle asked, and the Prince finally moved, climbing back on his horse, catching Robb’s excited grin, feeling his own stretching his cold lips. 

They finally started moving again, they still had quite a bit of the way before them, but now Bran was finally talking, his earlier silence completely forgotten. 

*


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re leaving your left side unprotected, my Prince.”

Jon heard Ser Barristan speak the moment Robb’s sword collided with his left arm. He managed to block the blow, sharply turning on his leg and ducking, bringing his sword around and knocking Robb’s out of his hand. 

He turned and nodded his thanks to the white knight, before reaching his hand out to pick Robb up, listening to all the comments he and Ser Rodrick made about their mistakes. 

There was a loud noise from their left, shortly followed by a shriek, before Bran and Arya ran from around the corner, their direwolfs running in front of them, both laughing out loud. Jon saw Sansa appear close behind them, snow in her hair, blazing eyes promising revenge. 

She threw the globe in her hand straight at Bran, but unfortunately for her, he ducked, and the snow hit Robb squarely in chest, invoking another round of laughter. Robb, never the one to miss his chance, threw one globe at Jon and another back at his younger siblings. Soon after that there was snow flying in every direction, amidst the laughter and wolves’ growls. 

That was how Lord Stark found them, when he entered the yard some time after. They called a temporary truce, when he motioned for them to come forward. Jon noticed there was a letter in his hand and nudged Robb, but his cousin only shrugged his shoulders, apparently not knowing more than Jon.

Jon looked back at his uncle and found him staring straight at Jon, when he quietly said “There has been a letter from the Court.”

*


	4. Chapter 4

Even if Jon always insisted on as little formality as he could get away with, there were always people around either uncomfortable to do it or who just ignored his requests. Like for Ser Barristan, Jon would always be “My Prince”, when he would always, hopefully, be “Jon” to his family, even if Sansa sometimes slipped and called him “My Prince”. 

But no matter how hard he tried to forget, at the end he was still Crown Prince Jon Targaryen, heir to King Rhaegar Targaryen. 

He knew there would come a day when he would be called to the Court and he would need to leave his home, leave Winterfell. 

Winterfell, he had been taught, had been a home of his mother, Lady Lyanna Stark. She had been a sister of Lord Eddard Stark. After him the Lord of Winterfell would be his cousin Robb. But Jon was a future King of Westeros and his seat was in King’s Landing and one day his father would call him back. 

Jon had been eight when his uncle sat him down and explained it to him. Two more years passed before he would learn about the nicer version of the Rebellion and still two more before finally Jon had learnt all the details and a role his mother had played in the Rebellion. 

But even knowing the details, Jon never really expected there would come a day, when he would get called to the court. That was always a distant future, a day, when he would finally meet his father and his family. 

Jon had been taught his history, from Aegon to Rhaegar, with all their mistakes and shortcomings. Taught by different Maesters the King had sent, taught by his uncle and his wife and taught by Ser Barristan. 

But knowing all that never seemed important. Jon knew his father was King Rhaegar Targaryen, his mother Lady Lyanna Stark, his uncles Prince Viserys Targaryen, Lord Eddard Stark and Benjen Stark, his aunt Princess Daenerys Targaryen, his cousins Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon.

But Jon had never met the King and all his life the Targaryens seemed so far away from the North, from his home and his family and the man Jon perceived as his father. 

When finally the day came for Jon to say goodbye to Winterfell, he felt completely lost. His uncle would come with him, bringing Sansa and Arya and Bran with them, while Robb, Rickon and Lady Stark were staying behind. 

The preparations were enormous, so big that Jon was able to lose himself in them, to stop thinking about how long would it be, before he would finally see this place again. He started pestering Ser Barristan again with questions about King’s Landing and the King and the royal family, as he had done when he had been a child. 

He had gone through goodbyes and promises of visits almost automatically, and for a while it seemed all a beautiful adventure, travelling down the King’s Road. Only when he turned to say something to Robb and found him missing, did Jon remember where he was headed. His only distraction were Arya and Bran, always bickering about something, and when he was alone there was Ghost.

His uncle hadn’t objected, when Jon declared he was bringing his direwolf with him, but there had been some strange look in his eyes for a moment. But at the end, he hadn’t said a thing. 

They reached the Neck before Jon was aware they left Winterfell for good. He had this weird feeling, expecting to turn and see the old castle in the distance. After that time seemed to fly and finally they were mere days before King’s Landing. 

The closer they got to the Capitol, more people waited to meet them. As Ser Barristan pointed out, he was the missing Prince returning home. But all Jon felt, sitting atop his horse, his red and black dragon cloak billowing in the wind behind him, was lost. 

He wanted to talk to his uncle before they arrived, and each morning as he mounted his horse, he decided to ask that night. And when the night finally came, Jon felt his determination dwindling. He always found some reason to keep quiet. If he was honest with himself, he just didn’t want to face the reality. 

When the first shape on the city became obvious in front of them, growing bigger, more defined, more _real_ with every passing moment, Jon realized his time had run out.

As they rode through the city gate, Ser Barristan on Jon’s left side and his uncle on the right, the mass of people standing there flooded Jon. The noise was almost unbearable, the stench even more so. In Jon’s mind King’s Landing with the Red Keep seemed like a bigger and redder version of Winterfell. Nobody ever bothered to shatter that illusion, but looking around now, Jon missed the vast fields of North like nothing before. 

Turning, he saw his uncle nod at him, seemingly completely calm, and Jon took a deep breath, nodding back. He straightened in his saddle, forced his lips in a smile, waved left and right, all the while moving slowly to the castle looming above him.

The Crown Prince was home.

*


	5. Chapter 5

When the dust finally settled upon Prince’s return to King’s Landing, Jon found that things hadn’t changed that much. He still trained with Ser Barristan, although there were other Knights to practice with, there were Maesters, who tried to teach him new things, but Jon learnt how to escape quickly from those. He still spent most of his time with the Starks, the Targaryens staying away from now.

His uncle told him not to worry.

They had been greeted by the King upon their arrival, though the attention of Jon’s father was solely upon Eddard Stark. Jon never knew what to expect, but cold indifference was never among his top options.

The Royal family was a surprise for Jon. Three siblings, looking so alike at first sight, their hair almost as white as their skin and with purple eyes. Beside ages, it was the eyes that separated them. The King’s were cold, somewhat bored and distant. Prince Viserys obviously tried to copy his brother and look bored, but there was a weird gleam in his eyes every time he looked at Jon. The last was Princess Daenerys and Jon found no trace of boredom in her eyes, instead they were shining with interest and she smiled when Jon had been introduced to her.

But that night, all Jon’s attention had been focused on his father. Looking up at the King, sitting on his throne, for the first time, all Jon could see were the differences. It hadn’t been noticeable at Winterfell, when he was surrounded by Starks, but looking at the three Targaryens, pale and light-headed, Jon felt different like never before. When before his title had been the one to separate him, now it seemed it would be his looks.

His new uncle was the first to point it out.

Like every morning since they arrived, Jon had spent it practicing. Ser Barristan told him not to waste his talents and even talked to the Kingsguard to fight with him, claiming the Prince already knew all his tricks.

That is how Jon found himself clashing swords with Ser Oswell Whent. He thought it wasn’t all that bad, he even managed to land a few hits, until there was something tripping him and before he knew it, there was a sword pointed at his throat.

They went for three rounds, each one ending like the first. In the fourth one, Jon almost had him, but was once again tripped. As Ser Oswell pulled him up again, there was a clapping heard. Jon turned and saw Prince Viserys leaning against the fence. He was too far for Jon to clearly see his face, but he thought he saw the smirk there.

“Fighting like a real Stark, nephew.” The tone was clearly mocking, “Going to try again?” Everybody there heard _and fail again_ implied at the end.

Jon was sure the comment was made to offend, but at this moment, he could only agree. But just because he lost to the Knight almost two times his age, didn’t mean he would lose to his uncle. The offer to replace Ser Oswell was out of his mouth, before he was even aware.

Jon thanked Ser Oswell for his time as he watched his uncle make his way to the field. The sword in his hand was getting heavy and his muscles were almost at the point to start cramping, sweat was running all over him, but Jon just pushed his hair out of his face, standing straighter and waited until Viserys was ready.

It started slowly, neither of them sure of their next move, but Viserys had the advantage of watching Jon for some time before, and Jon was tired. There was a sharp _cling_ as the steel met steel, when Jon blocked Viserys’ hit and after that…it was a blur. Block there, twist here, attack there…until his uncle twisted around in a move Jon had already seen from Ser Oswell, managing to block it and hit right after, sending his uncle sprawling to the ground.

“Well, I’ll admit that was good,” Viserys said, as Jon pulled him up, “For a Stark, of course.”

The mocking was still there, but this time Jon laughed. He met the purple eyes, now almost shiningly bright with _something_ , and nodded to the request for a rematch, a smile still tugging his lips. He had a feeling he would be seeing Prince Viserys often.

“Tomorrow, though, this went on long enough, I have stuff to do.” Viserys half-bowed, grinning, before walking away, turning to add, “Look, Stark, here’s your wolf.”

Pushing his hair out of his eyes again, Jon waited until Ghost came to him, stretching his aching muscles. He looked up to the castle, when his eyes met the purple ones watching from the window. Before Jon could focus and see who it was, the person had already turned, and all he caught was the flash of the silvery hair.

*

Whenever there was little time, Jon managed to convince Ser Barristan to let him discover the new castle alone. He had to promise not to sneak out on his own, and even if he was tempted sometimes, for now getting lost in the Red Keep was enough. 

Usually Jon took Ghost with him, and even if there were shrieks, when they stumbled upon servants going around their business, they were usually left alone. Jon caught some curious looks on his wandering around, but everybody left with a murmured “My Prince” whenever they caught a sight of the white direwolf. 

Today they were walking around the ground floors, trying to find the gardens his uncle claimed were almost always deserted. Jon looked from the top connecting bridge, and it really seemed there was no one there, and Jon could use some peace from the constant noise present in the castle. In Winterfell he always managed to slip away, sometimes with Robb, other times on his own, enjoying the peace and quiet. The capital on the first glance seemed full with people, everywhere Jon looked someone was already there, and even if he managed to get out, he wouldn’t know where to go. 

He had searched the gardens with Arya and Bran when they first arrived, but like everything else, the place was full, and Jon started to avoid it. He mentioned something to Viserys that morning, and he got waving directions to this place. 

Not wanting to ask, because it appeared to be easy to find the entrance from the top, Jon wandered around for good half an hour, before Ghost ran forward around the corner. Jon thought nothing about that, until he heard a scream moments later. 

“Ghost!”

His direwolf stood in the entryway leading into the gardens and he looked at Jon, when Jon came around the corner. Jon saw Ghost was standing in front of Princess Daenerys, who was still outside in the sun. She was holding a book in her hands, but the papers, Jon was sure were also in her hands moments ago, were scattered around her on the ground. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Jon rushed forward, Ghost finally moving out of the way. He was still apologizing, as he bent down to pick the fallen papers. He felt Daenerys kneel beside him and soon the scattered papers were back in her hands. 

“I really am so–” Jon started apologizing again, as they stood up, but fell quiet as the Princess put her hand on his. He finally looked up to the purple eyes, shining in amusement, and he felt the frown forming on his face. 

“It’s quite all right, my Prince. I was simply startled.”

“All the same, I apologize.” At that moment, his direwolf came back and Jon, not wanting to scare the Princess again, ordered him to stay away. He barely finished, before he was interrupted again, his aunt waving his words away, saying to let Ghost stay. 

He watched, as Ghost slowly approached again, his red eyes trained on Daenerys, and the Princess bent down, dropping her things on the ground. As Ghost came to a stop before her, Jon watched as she slowly moved her hand, until one rested on Ghost’s head. Jon watched as she scratched behind Ghost’s ears, before her hand slid down the white fur in a gentle caress. Jon could see the corner of her mouth turning upward. 

“But I thought – ” Jon fell silent, as the Princess turned her head toward him, wide purple eyes looking into his own, a smile still on her face, and for a moment Jon felt like he was intruding in a private moment. He felt the color rushing into his face, as he mumbled, “I thought you were…”

“Scared?” Jon saw one eyebrow arch, as he Princess finished the sentence for him. He was sure his cheeks were visibly red as he nodded. Thankfully, the Princess returned her attention to his direwolf, her hands still caressing, as she responded.

“No, I…wasn’t looking where I was going and he simply startled me, as he appeared out of nowhere. I’ve spent some time with your cousin Sansa and her direwolf and I can say I’m not afraid, my Prince.”

“Jon.”

The words were out of his mouth almost automatically, and he saw the Princess smile in his direction. “Jon, then.” She said as she rose up, the sun behind her making her hair glow, while darkening her purple eyes, which shone with some emotion Jon couldn’t name. There was still a smile on her face and Jon thought this was the most beautiful sight he ever saw. 

*


	6. Chapter 6

After that one accidental meeting with the Princess Daenerys, Jon started spending more time with her. Sometimes Viserys joined them, other time his cousins, and finally Jon started getting to know his father’s part of the family. Though the King himself was still away. 

Sometimes Jon thought about contacting him first, but as usual he shied away, not wanting to be met with a refusal. Daenerys told him the King was distant and cold in his affections, spending all his time ruling the kingdom, but she claimed both she and Viserys knew their brother loved them in his own way. 

They talked about growing up at King’s Landing and Winterfell. Daenerys told him what life in the capital was like, about childhood with no parents and two brothers. She talked about how lonely she felt, when Rhaegar sent Viserys away to Dorne, and even thought there were always a mass of people at court, she never felt close to any of them. Jon in turn told her about Winterfell and his uncles and cousins, about the day when he had found direwolfs. 

For Jon things seemed to be calming down. The novelty about his presence in the capital had worn off, his days finally settled into some routine and he managed to hold certain relationship with his new family. Viserys became almost a friend, still calling him “Stark” and fighting with him all the time, but also just talking with him sometimes. Daenerys was a different kind of a friend, Jon found laughing so easy with her and almost unintentionally he told her things no one but Robb knew about. 

He caught himself looking at her, when they were together, admiring her hair, shining in the sun, and her purple eyes, almost always bright with amusement, but he convinced himself it was just curiosity, it was their difference that attracted his attention. Even when she caught his eyes sometimes, a curious look in her them, Jon just shook his head. Most of the times, she pretended not to notice his eyes on her, and when he felt her looking at him, he did the same. 

It was one of those afternoons, when the two youngest members of the royal family escaped to the secluded gardens, that the routine was finally broken. Jon was sitting on the bench with Daenerys, Ghost was running around the gardens, before settling down near them. They were talking quietly, smiling shyly at each other, their hands barely touching on the bench between them. 

When someone cleared his throat, they both jumped up, guiltily snatching their hands away. Jon felt the color rising in his cheeks as he looked up to see Ser Arthur Dayne standing in the entryway. 

“I apologize, my Prince, Princess.” The tall knight said, eyes locked on Jon as he continued, “The King wishes to see you.”

*

Jon expected to be led to the throne room, where the audiences were held this time of the day, but Ser Arthur picked a different path from the Gardens. 

From the moment his uncle in Winterfell declared the King had requested his presence in the capital, Jon was excited and curious to meet the man who fathered him. The delay in King’s Landing, where Jon convinced himself he wasn’t important enough, served somewhat to calm his nerves. The distraction Daenerys provided lately diverted his attention almost completely from impending meeting with King Rhaegar. 

Now that he was moments from meeting his father, the King, Jon felt more nervous than ever. For a moment he wished he hadn’t left Ghost with the Princess, just so he could focus on something else, not only just on the Knight in front of him, or the dark hallway, Jon was sure he never crossed on his discovering tour. 

His hands were sweating worse than when he had to fight Lord Stark for the first time and he was afraid he would be a disappointed. Fumbling with his cloak, Jon awkwardly brushed his palms against his breeches, fingers twitching nervously at his sides. He saw Dayne stop at the door at the end of the hallway, nodding to his Lord Commander standing there, before knocking and announcing Jon’s arrival. 

Jon was let in the room without further ceremony. Upon entering, Jon realized he was in the King’s private chambers. The wall opposite the door was all windows, letting in the afternoon sun and coloring the room in yellow hues. Below the window there was a big desk, with chairs around it. When he moved closer, Jon saw the King was standing near the windows, his back to the room. Beside the two of them, the room was empty. Jon was almost at the desk, when the King turned. With the sun behind him, the King’s face was almost hidden from the view, shadows falling on it, while the sun illuminated his hair, making it almost shine. For a second, Jon recalled Daenerys in a similar position, picture clear in his head from the day they had met. His attention snapped back to the present, when he was ordered to sit. 

The silence around them continued even after Jon was already sitting, his hands balled into fists, hidden from the view and just as sweaty as before. Jon wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything, beside the usual courtesies, but as he had no idea where to start, he kept quiet until asked, as uncle Ned told him once. 

Not comfortable looking at the purple eyes, that seemed to be judging him with a cold stare, Jon glanced around the papers on the desk, taking in the different seals, maps and half finished letters, before he heard the quiet sigh. He looked back as the King Rhaegar stepped away from the window, coming to stand behind his chair. 

“I suppose you are wondering why you are here.”

The tone was the same dried, bored one the King had used upon their arrival at court, just as his face seemed once again wiped of any emotions. 

“Sixteen years ago, I’ve inherited a Kingdom mostly in ruins. Some of the blame was mine, I suppose. I’ve been told you know your history, so I’m not going to repeat it here. I’m not regretting the decision to send you North, but if you want to one day rule after me, you need to learn how.” The King’s voice never wavered, his eyes never straying from Jon’s. 

“At the moment, Viserys knows more about ruling than you, but that can be corrected. I’ve already spoke with Lord Stark and he assured me you are familiar with the dealings in the North.” Jon couldn’t understand exactly what the King was trying to say, but it seemed he was satisfied with Jon’s nodding. 

“There are things you need to be aware off, mostly due in North,” Jon saw the purple gaze flicker to the maps on the desk, “but we shall discuss that after the betrothal.”  
“Betrothal?” The word was out of his mouth before Jon even registered asking.

“Viserys was promised to Lady Margaery Tyrell years ago. The formal announcement will follow sometime after the Tyrells reach the city.” Jon nodded his understanding. 

“They, along with everybody else, are coming for the Tourney, which will be held in your honor, in a two weeks time. I expect you to participate. From what I’ve seen you appear competent enough.” Again, Jon nodded, not knowing if the comment had been an insult or praise. The King looked at him for some time, before adding, “That would be all for now.” 

Before he even finished speaking, the King’s attention was already on the papers in front of him, fingers running over the map somewhat distractedly. Jon stood, half in light shock, mumbled something along the lines of _with your permission_ , before he turned and walked toward the door. 

“Jon.” He was by the door, when the King spoke again. Jon turned to find the King’s eyes on him, this time focused with a queer intensity. 

“You will cease to spend time with Daenerys. There are rumors starting I won’t allow.”

*


	7. Chapter 7

With the formal announcement of the upcoming Tourney in the honor of the Crown Prince, the court, along with entire King’s Landing, fell into a whirlwind of preparations. Everywhere he looked, Jon was met with builders and merchants, a mass of people arriving into city, excitement in the air. 

It seemed like all the focus returned back on Jon, now even more intense than before. After Viserys let it slip one morning that Jon would be also competing, his line of potential training opponents became impossibly long. In the middle of his intensified training, Jon’s free time became almost non-existent. 

If he managed to slip from one uncle, there was suddenly the other. On top of that came the long line of people the King had sent to take care of a million things Jon never knew he needed. 

After almost a month spent behind the castle’s walls, now it appeared Jon was needed everywhere. 

His previous daily meetings with Daenerys now turned into glances in the hallway and rushed courtesies, if by luck, they somehow found themselves in the same room.

As it looked, the King gave him no chance to disobey his orders. 

But even that had not stopped the gossip floating around, whispers of the Targaryen marriage far more interesting than even the King’s potential anger. 

No one around Jon ever mentioned the gossip, but one late afternoon, as he was returning with Viserys from the docks, his uncle started talking about his parents. The former royal couple was mostly never mentioned, as the King preferred to not speak about them, even to his siblings, and Viserys himself remembered very little. 

“As I was leaving with mother, he told me to pray for a sister, who would keep our line clean. After a year I returned, with Dany instead of mother, Rhaegar was King and nobody mentioned Aerys again. When Rhaegar declared he won’t marry again, I asked him if I was supposed to marry Dany now.” He glanced at Jon on his side, quiet for a moment, before continuing. 

“I was told that the Targaryen tradition of marrying our sisters is what brought us to this insanity within us. Rhaegar never wanted to hear a word of it, never mind our legacy. I was promised to wed Lady Margaery Tyrell not a week after that.”

They rode through the gates at that, finding the yard full of people, the green banner flying above. Sliding down from his horse, Viserys smiled in his direction, “I’m curious to see, who they deem appropriate for you.”

He was lost in the mass before Jon knew how to respond. 

*

Before the jousting competition began in the morning, there was a huge feast to start the whole tourney. Jon had barely entered the hall, before someone pushed a cup in his hand. Not long after that Viserys spotted him, and soon Jon was drinking to every imaginable toast his uncle and gathered Tyrells could come up with. 

Like the evening started, it went on. Jon, as the guest of honor and also the Crown Prince, was sitting beside the King, Viserys close and the remaining Lords and Ladies beside them. Everybody was toasting either the King or one of the Princes and Jon was steadily drinking on. He caught the frown uncle Ned aimed his way, the smirk Viserys had every time he lifted his cup, the water someone placed on his side. 

Despite eating all the time, Jon was not used to wine and when dancing started he was slightly unsteady on his legs. He watched as Viserys took Lady Margaery to the cleared floor and for a second thought about skipping the first dance. His plans were ruined when his uncle pointedly glared in his direction, the Stark grey eyes shining in the light, not that Jon knew if it was amusement, knowing his nephew hated dancing, or worry, because of his drinking. 

Standing, taking a deep breath to try and clear his head, Jon looked to his right, taking in the hall before him, people still sitting. The floor was still mostly empty, Viserys having stopped before the musicians and talking, Jon caught sight of Daenerys for the first time this evening. He had been on the other end of the hall when the arrival of Princess Daenerys was announced, and he only caught a glimpse of her shining hair before Viserys diverted his attention. She took the honorary place of the Queen at the other side of the table, and like that was far away from Jon. Before he even reached the decision to ask her to be his savior for the night, Jon was already moving. 

He was stopped before he even reached his uncle, by one of the Tyrells, appearing too drunk to even stand, because when he tried, he ended sprawled on the floor. Jon helped him up, brushing away the thanks, laughing with Lord Tyrell when he commented and somehow someone once again pushed a cup in his hand. Drinking the quick sip, to not appear rude, Jon glanced in the King’s direction and found him glancing his way, before the purple eyes once again focused on his sister on the other side. 

Following his look, Jon saw that in the Tyrell commotion someone was already asking his aunt for the dance, but Jon just couldn’t focus enough to see who exactly. Silently cursing his luck, he caught the red head sitting beside his uncle and Jon knew who would help him. 

“Lady Sansa,” The Prince didn’t even get the chance to finish his question, before his cousin was out of her chair, the biggest smile on her face, Jon had ever seen. They reached his uncle and Jon thought he heard the muttered _finally_ and once he stepped on the floor, there was a line almost instantly, and with his bow to Sansa the dance started. 

Jon danced with three different Ladies, feeling hotter by every turn he completed, palms sweating from the heat, head lighter with every bow, before the next turn brought him face to face with Daenerys. 

“Princess,” he met the purple eyes as he bowed over her hand, feeling his pulse quicken when she smiled at him. Jon felt her shiver under his hand, when he pulled her to him, starting the next part of the dance. 

“I was going to ask you to dance,” Jon said once they completed the first turn and once again she smiled at him, saying she saw he was playing savior. She wore a red dress, that entangled around his feet every time they turned, the bodice decorated with black and silver flowers, her hair pulled in a bun high on the head, shining almost gold in the light. 

By the time their dance finished, she was smiling, her face flushed, purple eyes shining and to Jon she looked the most beautiful of the entire court. He told her so, as he once again bowed over her hand, lips brushing lightly over her knuckles, cherishing the gasp she let escape her mouth. 

After the first dance finished, Jon escorted Sansa back to her father, waving away the question about his drinking, before returning to his seat. It seemed just Jon’s luck, but moments after Viserys wandered back, dragging him to the lower tables, taking another wineskin with them. 

It passed a lot of time before Jon managed to escape, his uncle presenting him to this and that Lord, toasting this or that accomplishment and once again Jon felt his head getting lighter, his surroundings swimming around him. He quickly excused himself, when Viserys was distracted by his future good-brother, walking to the seemingly deserted balcony near the entrance. 

The fresh air hit him in the face the moment he stepped outside and Jon took deep breaths, willing his head to clear and his stomach to settle. He leaned on the stone rail, the cold slipping under his clothes, and looked at the darkened gardens below. 

“Escaping so soon?”

Jon was startled out of his thoughts when someone approached him. Turning his head, he felt himself smiling, when his eyes caught the amused purple ones. 

“Come to take me back?”

He asked, when his aunt stepped closer to where he was standing in the corner, hidden from the view of the hall. 

“I think I drank enough today,” Jon said, but took the cup she handed to him either way, placing it on the stone beside them. Her hands empty, Daenerys placed one on Jon’s elbow, murmuring, “You should avoid Viserys, when he is drinking.” 

Jon’s eyes took in her hand, her touch, light as it was, still almost burning his skin through layers of clothing. He swallowed, looking up to find her eyes already on his face. They appeared to be glowing, almost black in the dark and Jon found it hard to look straight into them. His attention focused on the lock that escaped from her bun, falling into her eyes. 

“I was told to stay away from you.”

He whispered, his hand lifting almost without conscious though from him, fingers sliding on her skin, tucking the lock behind her ear. Her eyes closed when she whispered back, “I know.” 

His hand fell to her shoulder, caressing the skin there, and she looked at him again. He watched as she licked her lips, her hand tightening on his arm. 

“Jon.”

Swallowing again, he saw her lean into him and he followed almost in a trace, with his heart pounding in his chest. His hand cupped her cheek and their lips met, shivers running through both of them. 

Jon tried to move away, but Daenerys just stepped closer, opening her mouth under his and Jon was unable to do anything else then pull her even closer, exploring her mouth with his tongue, tasting the wine she was drinking moments ago. 

“Jon,” she murmured again, against his lips, when he moved away, slightly biting her lower lip. His thumbs brushed the flushed cheeks and he watched as she licked her lips, one of his fingers following the move of the tongue. He smiled, when she gasped, his mouth once again covering hers. 

They jumped away, when something crashed to the floor close to the entrance to the balcony. Nervously Jon looked as shadows blocked the light, praying they somehow won’t come out, and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a feminine “I want to dance again” and thankfully the figures moved away.

His eyes found Daenerys’ purple ones in the dark, her cheeks now flushed from adrenaline and embarrassment, lips slightly puffy from his kisses. 

“I should,” she waved her hand, her teeth worrying the lower lip and Jon nodded. She glanced once again at him, before turning away and walking inside. 

*


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the opening of the tourney finally! I made up couple of things at that, mostly just for the fun of it, I apologize if they seem too much out of the world here. I hope they don't ruin the rest of the story for anybody.

Jon saw Daenerys next the following morning, when she was officially opening the tourney. In the absence of the Queen, the King usually did all the required things, but in the last couple of years, Daenerys got more and more duties to fulfil. She explained to him that once she was married, that role would fall to Margery Tyrell, provided Jon wasn’t married himself already. In that case, the crown princess would get her duties long before her title. 

As neither Jon, nor Viserys, were competing this early in the competition, Jon got the see the whole ceremony from the royal stand. Jon was planning to see the proceedings of the first day with the Starks, seeing all of his cousins were so excited about it, they provided a good distraction from his own thoughts. 

After that kiss on the balcony and Daenerys’ abrupt departure, Jon was left standing there, his mind whirling, all of his senses still completely focused on her. It took him some time, before he finally wandered back in, losing himself in the crowd. He didn’t stay long afterwards, seeing how of all his family only Viserys was still there. 

But just because he managed to escape to his room and to his bed, it didn’t mean his head wasn’t still full of imagines of Daenerys, how she looked, smelt, _felt_ in his arms. 

Jon spent the remainder of the night tossing around his bed, before the finally gave up as the first sunshine rays light the sky. As he walked out of his room, even Ghost gave him a weird look, before finally coming along. They wandered around until the castle became livelier, servants running around, and Jon went to see the family he grew up with. He busied himself with his cousins, and pretended not to see his uncle looking at him a bit worried, waving all the questions aimed at him away. 

When they finally managed to move towards the stands, Jon went with them without even thinking about it. It wasn’t long before Jon saw Ser Barristan coming his way through the crowd, and he knew his plans with were ruined. Jon nodded as he was informed the King wished to see him in the royal stand, saying goodbye to his family and moving to where he saw Viserys waiting for him, Lady Margery with her companions beside him. 

“Ah, the Crown Prince finally joins us,” his uncle exclaimed, falling in step with Jon, moving toward their place. “You are lucky I saw you before the King arrived. That would not be nice.” 

“I thought he requested my presence.”

“Don’t be stupid, Stark.” Viserys stressed the name, glancing at Jon pointedly, “The Kind would never do such a thing, he would let you sit there, but show his displeasure of you not doing what is expected of you in other ways. Like glaring.”

“Like he does anything else with me,” Jon murmured, as they finally stepped into the royal stand and came into the view of people.

“Exactly. Now, smile, nephew, people might think you were complaining.” Viserys grinned, as he helped his future wife into her seat. Jon glared at his direction, but his response was interrupted by King’s arrival. 

Jon was surprised to find how quickly things started to move, once the Kind took his place. The ceremony was started by the High Septon, who blessed all the competitors. He was talking about something more, but all Jon’s attention was focused on his aunt, standing beside the High Septon. 

Standing in the sun in a flowery dress, she was completely different than last night, but no less beautiful to Jon. After the High Septon finished his speech, she welcomed everyone to the jousting tourney in honour of her dear brother’s engagement to Lady Tyrell, she glanced briefly in direction to the royal stand, where the future royal couple was waving, before adding that this is also the opportunity to officially welcome the heir to the throne in King’s Landing. She looked directly at Jon at that and fell into slight courtesy. 

Never expecting that, Jon wasn’t sure how to react. He heard the clapping get louder, but he felt frozen in place, with everybody’s eyes on him, until Viserys’ elbow landed under his ribs, the hissed _“Stand!”_ almost lost in the sound. Jon wasn’t completely aware of his of reactions, but he managed to stand, bowing and smiling to his aunt, who was looking almost worriedly at him, before finally sitting back down. 

Even after the clapping slowed down and the crowd’s attention focused back on the happenings in the field, as Princess Daenerys and High Septon exited the arena and first jousters took their place, Jon’s hart was still beating furiously fast. He was aware the King planned to use the tourney to introduce Jon to the people, but he thought that was supposed to be through his participation in the competition, not as the actual stated honour. 

Glancing to where the King was seated, Jon saw his father was already looking at him. His expression was completely unreadable, but he nodded to Jon, before his attention was back on the field, where the jousting was finally starting for real. 

Daenerys joined them after the first round was already finished, slipping quietly into the seat next to Jon. When he looked over, she pretended not to notice him, staring straight ahead. Jon waited until the bell announcing second round sounded, before telling her she looked amazing earlier. 

Her eyes flickered toward his, a small smile on her face, as she mouthed a silent _Thank you_. Jon focused back to the field, a smile on his face, which only grew as Daenerys gently placed her hand next to his on the armrest. 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previous chapters were written in June, when I was breathing and living the kinkmeme, but then I went on the holidays and later on exchange, and time just flew. I'm starting to get back to this, as I want to finish it...and I know how it will go and everything (supposedly =P). But since I had almost five months of a break, where I didn't write a thing, I apologize if this feels a bit awkward in style.


	9. Chapter 9

The jousting competition was the most prominent one, one most sought by men both young and old, which was why all the tourneys opened with one. The other reason was more practical, considering the amount of men wanting to compete was so high, it needed to start early, or the tourney would last up to a month. 

And in this case, Jon was sure, it seemed almost certain it would run over the two weeks the King has planned. By all accounts it felt as if the every male in the kingdom had decided to participate at the tourney of the Crown Prince. 

The early stages would go on for five days, before there would be a two-day break, after which Jon would have a chance to try his best to win his own tournament. 

The second day was just as bright and hot and it marked the official opening of all other festivities and competitions in the tourney. At the breakfast, which Jon managed to have with his Uncle and cousins, Arya and Bran excitedly talked about their plans of exploring the place. Jon wasn’t sure if he could skip a day at the royal stand, but when even Sansa joined the exuberant duo and asked Jon to accompany them, he finally caved and accepted. 

They were barely out on the fields, when Jon’s hopes of a delightful day so similar to the ones in Winterfell, were shattered. Like the previous day, Prince Viserys saw him wandering off and sent one of his future good-brothers, Jon wasn’t sure which one, to call him back.

To be fair, it was an invitation to join his royal Uncle, but Jon saw it for what it was. 

So he took his place on the stand, and when the King appeared, the jousting finally began. But even after the first duel was finish, the chair next to Jon’s was still empty. 

His eyes kept glancing at it, moving to the curtains, whenever someone stepped in, expecting to see Daenerys, but always finding someone else. 

_Was something wrong?_ Jon kept wondering, _Had something happened yesterday after he had seen her last?_ Not that she had mentioned anything at the dinner, but Jon had spoken just a couple of words with her. 

Jon caught the King looking his way, but pretended not to see. After two more duels finished and it became obvious the Princess would not be joining them, Jon finally turned to Viserys and asked about her.

For a moment it seemed as if the royal stand froze, Jon wasn’t even sure if his Uncle had heard him. His face crinkled at edges, like he was grimacing, but before he could replied, before he could even turn to Jon, Jon’s attention was demanded by someone else. 

“The Princess was joined by Margery Tyrell and other ladies, who went around the tourney to see the other events.” 

Jon found the King’s purple eyes locked on him, and though his face was blank, the look in his eyes was alight with an eerie brightness. He excluded almost cold satisfaction, his mouth slightly curled when he added: “She won’t be joining us today.”

Jon wordlessly turned back to the field, where some poor man was just unhorsed, barely managing a weak nod in the King’s direction.

His not-so-pleasant day just got even more unpleasant. 

He caught the look his Uncle threw in his direction, a silent apology written on his features, but Jon didn’t manage a response. 

He had a feeling like something important just happened, a test, he wasn’t aware off, and one he, by all accounts, failed miserably at. 

He remembered the words his Uncle aimed at him few days ago, _“I’m curious to see, who they deem appropriate for you”_.

Jon was certain no one had seen him and Daenerys on the balcony at the opening feast, or else there would be a reaction to it by now. He would have heard something about it. In a place where everybody gossips about the royal family and especially now, when he and Daenerys were at the centre of the attention, he was bound to hear something this big, were anybody to know.

But to whatever his father, or better the King, was reacting to, it didn’t bode well for Jon. Not with that calculated satisfaction showing on a face schooled to hide every emotion.

And even on a hot day, sitting on a sun as he was, Jon could barely suppress a shudder coming over him.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long while, here's the new chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint.


	10. Chapter 10

The days leading to Jon's entry in the jousting passed in a blur. He was distracted, worried, _scared_. Not that he knew of what, just the feeling of uneasiness kept following him ever since that day on the stand. Even Viserys didn’t seem as cheerful as before, whereas Daenerys was nowhere to be found. 

Well, for Jon that was. He kept seeing her, but talking to her was an impossible feat. Jon had even considered writing a letter, sending a message of some sorts, but if anything, that would certainly enraged the King, if it would be found. 

The King himself had gone back to ignoring Jon, as Jon had expected. They crossed paths at dinner feasts, where Jon had taken to accompany his family, but for now the King seemed happy enough to pretend Jon was not there. 

The preparations for jousting gave Jon as excuse to stop watching the competition from the stand. He busied himself with his armor, horses, thinking about saddles and spears and lances, even though everything he might need was already taken care for him. 

Ser Barristan didn’t seem to mind spending his days down in the fields, and even Uncle Ned joined on some days, bringing Bran along. His cousin proved a good and welcome distraction, enjoying the tourney to the most. Jon knew Bran dreamt of becoming a knight, and everything happening now was like this dream finally starting to come true. Jon was more than happy to indulge him. 

His first matches seemed to pass without much pomp, or it had seemed so to Jon. People were curious about him, and the crowds were huge, he was nervous and excited, but when it was over, Jon had to admit he almost felt a bit disappointed. 

Uncle Ned laughed at him, when Jon told him so, claiming it was just the beginning and an easy win. Who knew, maybe his opposition was so afraid of the Crown Prince Jon and his title, he gave up before even starting. 

Doubtful as he was, things did speed up as the tourney progressed. Viserys appeared before Jon’s every ride to make fun of his Stark nephew, and Uncle Ned always came with advices, even Ser Barristan gave him pointers. The things had almost settled into a routine, before Jon’s match against Loras Tyrell was announced. 

Jon has seen Tyrell in competition before, knew of his strong reputation, but Jon wasn’t worried. After all, with his team and ever-growing group of supporters, Jon almost believed he was invincible.

He was busy preparing in the tent that morning, for the moment everything quiet around him, when someone walked in. Expecting it to be one of the squires with his shield, Jon said to leave it outside. 

“I’m sorry, my Prince, I must have forgotten it.”

At the sound of Daenerys’ voice, Jon’s world tilted, and when he turned to greet his grinning aunt, he felt calm for the first time in weeks. Before he regained his ability to speak, the princess continued.

“I can’t stay long, there are eyes everywhere, but I just wanted to wish you luck.” 

And all Jon could do was nod, and watch almost paralyzed as she came forward and softly pressed her mouth on his. Next second she was gone, leaving Jon standing there, dumbstruck, almost thinking that he dreamt the whole thing. 

The warmth he still felt on his lips and her light perfume in the air, the only things reminding him of what had truly happened. 

*

Jon went through the preparations that followed half in a trance. His earlier calm seemed to last, and in hindsight, he was sure that should have warned him. There was a storm brewing and just because he forgot about it for a second, it didn’t mean it was gone. 

Jon heard all the advices his companions shared, he even remembered them, but at the end of the day, when the match started, all he could think about was Daenerys. He rode out prepared to be victorious, as he always had been, but in that split second where his mind was so completely distracted, his spear tilted where it shouldn’t have, and he could just watch helplessly as Loras’ hit the mark perfectly, finding no opposition. 

The things became blurred then, the impact, the pain, _was that a horse he was on?_ ; somebody was screaming and after a sharp tug on his leg there was only darkness. 

*

When Jon awakened, it was to a red sky. There was unusual silence around him. It took him awhile to realize it was a canopy top of his own bed he was looking at, and the silence he though he heard, was not there at all. 

As his head cleared, he became aware of the crowded room, hands on him, questioning eyes of a Maester, as if he was waiting for Jon to respond. 

It took awhile before Maesters cleared him of any head injury; his uncles, and even the King, hovering nearby. It seemed Jon’s only injury was his right leg. The spear had missed all the important parts, but the wound was still great, and his fall of the horse hadn’t helped either. 

As the room slowly cleared, after the Maesters ordered rest and quiet for Jon, with the King being the first to leave, Viserys stayed and told Jon all about his spectacularly shocking accident. But even Viserys was dragged away by Lady Margery before Jon could find out about Daenerys. 

*

It turned out he shouldn’t have worried. Not long after he was left alone, the doors opened, and in walked the most beautiful woman in Jon’s opinion. She looked as she had been crying, worried lines creasing her forehead. She slowly sat down next to him, her hands gently touching his, almost afraid he would break. 

“I was so scared.” 

Even her voice seemed shaky. 

Jon managed a soft smile, “I’m fine.”

“You almost died.” Her purple eyes shone as she regarded him. 

“I wasn’t that bad. It’s just my leg. Everything is fine.”

Jon continued the soft reassurances as it seemed the situation finally caught up with her. Her fingers squeezed his tightly, her eyes focusing on his, as she whispered, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

And all Jon could do was promise that it wouldn’t happen again. And even as her mouth covered his, and he was almost lightheaded with the lack of air, his mind kept repeating _I promise_. 

They were so focused on each other, that they didn’t hear the door opening until it was too late,; until their whole world crashed around them. 

In the open doorway stood King Rhaegar and by the wild look in his eyes, Jon knew there was no way out this time. 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long time delay, but here's another chapter. I need to re-read it again, but I was just so excited about it, I wanted to share it! Hope you like it :)


	11. Chapter 11

In the end, catching Jon and Daenerys together seemed to crack the King’s aloof façade. Even if his anger seemed to be burning like a wildfire in the first instant, by the time the King called Ser Dayne to Jon’s room to escort Princess Daenerys out, the anger was replaced by something Jon could not name. It made the King look bitter and defeated, a look Jon had never seen on his father’s face. It made the King more human in his cool disappointment. 

Jon’s blood was still trumping through his veins, his heart racing in his chest and he desperately wanted to get up and follow Daenerys to make sure she was all right. Not that he expected Ser Arthur Dayne to harm her in any case, especially not since the King was staying in Jon’s room. _Maybe I should be worried about myself,_ Jon though almost hysterically, _even Ghost is not here to help me_. He watched warily as Rhaegar slumped in a chair next to Jon’s bed. 

Jon expected angry words, threats, even violent outbursts, but it appeared the King was content to simply stare at Jon, his eyes burning Jon’s skin, while Jon was trying to avoid the purple gaze. 

“I came to talk with you. I was planning to discuss everything after the tourney and once your uncle’s wedding was over, but your fall today showed me I can’t waste more time,” the King’s low voice broke the silence in the room. 

His next words startled Jon and he forgot he was avoiding looking at the King. “I admit I felt scared for a moment,” Rhaegar said, meeting Jon’s surprised look with a bitter smile, “You are my son, no need to look so surprised.”

“I told you before to stay away from Daenerys,” the King’s buried anger sparked again, “but you seem to be too much like your mother to ever listen to anything…not that I am any better.”

Jon wasn’t sure if he managed to hit his head harder than he thought and he was dreaming, because the situation seemed unreal. He had been dreading Rhaegar’s reaction if he found out about his entanglement with Daenerys and Jon’s blatant disregard of King’s orders. But he never expected a history lesson, or talk about his mother.

Whatever his father’s was intent to tell him, it was not making much sense to Jon. The King seemed to be shifting emotions too fast for Jon to follow, whatever he was trying to tell Jon getting lost in the process. But it seemed Rhaegar required no reply, because he was continuing his tale. 

“…awaking in the north and the war looming over us. Dragons were the only weapon that would help us prevail and protect our people, and I was convinced my children would be glorious.” Jon heard the words spoken, but could not process them fast enough. _Dragons? War? What is Rhaegar talking about?_ The King seemed to be lost in his head, talking about events leading up to Jon’s birth. “Rhaenys and Aegon were already born, but Elia could bear no more children. And Lyanna was from North. With you born, we could have had a chance. Even though I expected a daughter.” 

“However, I could not predict the Lannisters,” the King’s voice got hard and deadly quiet, “but I got my revenge. It seemed I gave much more for my dream than I anticipated.”

Even though Jon spent the past months thinking his father cold and detached, it seemed the mask had been hiding a bitter and regretful man. 

“ When Eddard Stark offered to take you North, I agreed without a thought. You resembled Lyanna so much even then; I couldn’t look at you and not feel guilty. And I had a kingdom to run.” 

“You never knew your grandparents, my father…was mad. _Mad King_ they called him,” a humorless chuckle escaped Rhaegar before his eyes focused on Jon. “Generations of brothers marrying their sister led us to this madness, to this curse upon us and I will never allow anything to happen between my family.” 

Jon’s mouth opened to…protest, he thought, but he snapped it shut, no voice escaping him. Not that it mattered; he wasn’t sure what to say, what to ask, claim, beg. The King’s eyes were still on Jon, one of his hands moving to grasp Jon’s arm. The grip was tight and Jon fought an urge to wince, trying to hold still. 

“You were never supposed to rule.” The words shocked Jon, he tried pulling his hand away from the King, to protest or protect himself, Jon wasn’t sure. The king blindly continued, “Aegon was to be my heir and…I thought I could teach you, but…” there was a pause, Jon’s heart thudding so loudly, he was sure his father could hear it in the silence that followed. _But what?_

“Viserys’ wedding will take place after the tourney. You will return North with Starks afterwards. You will continue further, to visit Night’s Watch. Once there, you will express your wish to join and I will allow it. Viserys will take your place of Crown Prince and you will give up a right that was never to be yours.”

Before Jon could understand what the King told him, Rhaegar had already loosened his hold on Jon’s arm and was getting up from his chair.

“I am sorry it had to happen this way,” were the last words Jon heard before the doors closed behind his father’s retreating back. 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, thanks for bearing with me. There is only one more chapter coming. I have to confess I'm not as active in this fandom anymore and I apologize for fuzzing over some details. I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless.


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